Tag Archives: Childhood

I haven’t done a top 10 list in ages, and because I am so original, I want to piggy-back off this concept one of my favorite YouTubers put out – traumatizing things in fiction as a child. As a kid, I had a love-hate relationship with fear. I loved getting afraid of things, just so I could become more enamored with them. Today I have a relationship with fear that it’s just being wasted. Gory horror films do nothing for me. Deep psychological thrillers, or horror films that actually take the time to build atmosphere (there are so few) are my jam. As a kid, the stuff that scared me tended to grab my attention. But that doesn’t mean that it didn’t fuck me up all the same. Here is a list of the top ten things in fiction that REALLY messed with me, growing up, in a scary way. Won’t be including any visual aids for this. Sorry if that’s a deal-breaker. I just have some of these attached to memories I’d like to forget.

10. Turning into lizard creatures
Star Trek Voyager
In one episode, Lt. Paris had discovered that it was possible to go to warp 10. He wanted to test this, and he just so happened to take Capt. Janeway along for the ride. What followed was them turning into these weird lizard creatures. But it wasn’t what you’d expect from Star Trek. They weren’t some big bulky thing that you can clearly tell is a costume or prop. They turn into these small creatures that look real. It was so unsettling to me as a child. For whatever reason, it just scared me out of my wits that I would turn into one of those things one day.

9. Pig head girl
Goosebumps
This one just fucked with my head. An episode of Goosebumps featured this city that people could warp into. It was a two-part episode where you had one of the main characters being turned into a pig because of her greed. That image just fucked with me so hard. Looking back on it now it’s ridiculous. But at the time it just fucked me up so hard.

8. Back monster scene
Phantasm II
As a kid I had this bad habit of going over to my uncle’s house. He is hardcore religious, and had a pool. But he also had another thing that he did – watch movies that were SO not appropriate for children. And as a kid who liked to do things I wasn’t supposed to, I would sneak over sometimes and watch them. One such film was Phantasm II. In it, we have a scene with a woman who is covered by a black cloak. They pull it off her face, and see that her mouth is taped shut. What else is under that cloak? They pull back more to reveal that there is a monster inside of her back, eating her. That scene stuck with me so hard. Scared the living shit out of me. But I couldn’t tell my parents about it because I would have gotten in trouble. The things I dealt with in silence.

7. The covers
Scary Stories (series)
Remember what I said about things that scared me enticing me to know more? Well, this was one such instance. I am so fucking pissed that they redid the covers for the new editions of the stories. The reasoning? Because they are too scary for kids. Bullshit! That is fucking stupid, and people who think that way are stupider. Yeah, they are scary, but sometimes things that scare kids also intrigue them. We like a little fear. I read all of those books because of the covers. And the neat fact is that the stories themselves were usually about sources of fear who are just misunderstood. I hate this idea that we have to make the world less difficult for children. Yeah, because kids can’t handle some scary imagery. Give me a fucking break.

6. The Witch
Hansel and Gretel
I honestly don’t know which version of this story I saw as a kid, but I remember that there was one version with this character who just fucked up my head so hard. Something about her screaming at these two children who she had chained up in a cage just messed with my head so fucking hard. I wish I could remember which version I saw. This story has been done to death. Another relic from a time gone by – when we could scare the shit out of children and it was okay, so long as the story has a happy ending. Don Bluth became a household name in the 80’s because of that philosophy, and he is absolutely right.

5. The threat of nuclear annihilation
I honestly don’t remember what specifically it was that got me scared of this. Maybe it was a movie, or the news, but I remember that the idea of a nuclear weapon attacking my house scared the piss out of me. To the point that I slept in my parents bedroom for ages. We had these mattresses that you could move around, and I was sleeping on one in the corner of their room for a long time. Now that we could be facing down World War III with North Korea, and the fact that my home state is in their launch radius, that thought has come back to me. Only this time I think I’d grab some marshmallows and enjoy the roast.

4. The Oompa Loompas
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
I’m talking about the original, not that weird Tim Burton shit. In this film, the only thing I found truly frightening as a kid growing up with those orange-faced bastards. They are fucking creepy! Their creepy faces and their creepy green hair and their creepy songs. I hated them so much. To this day I’m not a huge fan. If I will say what the remakes did better, it is the different songs. One good spot on a terrible movie. That’s something, right?

3. Slappy the Puppet
Goosebumps
Oh my Groj, this fucking puppet. One of the times that something didn’t entice me through fear and just freaked me the fuck out was this puppet. Everything from its creepy face to its creepy voice, the thing was just so scary! The guy they got for this puppet was just amazing. To this day, that creepy face makes my skin crawl. I’m well-aware how fake it all is, but it’s all in the performance. The guy they got for that was just too good.

2. Chernabog
Fantasia
The quintessential example of fear compelling me to fascination. As I am sure many who read my site know, Fantasia is not only my favorite Disney film, but my second favorite film of all time. And nowhere was that quality better exemplified than in the final number. In it, we see a powerful demon by the name of Chernabog summoning forth all of the damned for what must be one hell of a party. That creature mesmerized me. I loved everything about it. It had size, presence, and a creepy smile that just played into how scared and captivated I was at the same time. This character has become a staple of what I love about that film. Just made me want to go to the party that much more.

And the thing that freaked me out the most in fiction as a kid…

1. Expanding feet
Full House
A disclaimer – I didn’t like this show growing up. It was stupid, but I was young enough to be stuck watching it when the rest of the family was. And one scene that really fucked with my head growing up was when the youngest child in the family had this scary dream about her feet expanding really huge, and seeing it. That shit fucked me up! For weeks I had bad dreams about that concept, and to this day I feel a little weird when I see it. Old trauma, maybe? In any case, in a series devoid of any real tension or darkness, that one element has stuck with me. Hell, it’s the only thing I can actually remember about the series, outside of the Nostalgia Critic’s review of it.

So, what stuff from fiction fucked up your life as a kid? Let me know in the Comments

Until next time, a quote,

“Like I said before, I think kids like being scared because it pulls them much more into the action. If they didn’t like being scared, they wouldn’t go out for Halloween, or watch High School Musical” – Nostalgia Critic

I’ve been watching the latest Musical Autopsy video from A Dose of Buckley, and I got to thinking about something – the music I grew up with. See, unlike the girl in the video that he was dissecting, I actually did grow up in the 90’s. Well, some of the 90’s. I was born in 1988, which means that I spent a good couple years of the 90’s in diapers. Then I was a kid. But I do remember some things about the music that I grew up with. This post is probably just going to be self-indulgent, but I will have an avenue for all of you to tell me some stuff in the Comments down below. We’ll get there when we get there. Truth is, part of me wants to see what memories come back to me. After my head injury, the past is a strange animal to me. So, with that in mind, let’s try and figure this out.

First thing to know is – a lot of the music I grew up with was oldies. It’s what my parents listened to, and it’s what I listened to. Well, that and classical music. The first Disney film I ever watched is my second-favorite movie of all time, Fantasia. It formed my love of classical music and my love of 2D animation. A style that I SO lament having died the death it did. I wish it would come back in this country. I doubt it will ever happen, but I can dream, can’t I? So that was the kind of music that I grew up with the most. I have memories of spending time with my grandma Mary (she’s just Grandma to me) listening to my favorite piece of classical music of all time – Clair De Lune – on a cassette tape. The tape that was on, I must have listened to it a thousand times. One of the many memories I have of spending time with her. Makes me lament the countless memories that have been atom-bombed out of existence when I smashed my skull open.

The next thing that I grew up with was jazz. I thank one of my oldest and dearest girly-mates for getting me into that. Or rather, her dad. Her dad and I had a VERY antagonistic relationship with one-another. Truth be told, I liked the guy for that. He was the only adult in my life who gave shit to me, and who had no qualms with me giving shit back to him. It helped keep my rapier wit sharp. I honestly have missed having such a person in my life. If it weren’t for my trolling people on Twitter and various boards, my skills would have gone soft ages ago. He was an asshole, but so am I. I always was something of a little shit. So we got along great. When him and my girly-mate’s mom got a divorce, I always missed that connection. Were it not for a guy-cousin of mine who I have had a long-standing shit-giving relationship with, I don’t think my wit would be what it is today. The memories are coming back. This feels good.

Anyway, after that amazing tangent, I got into jazz. The big-band stuff. But I have something to admit to you – I have a dark secret. I listened to the Kenny G style smooth jazz. I know, I know, it’s terrible. I was young, and my tastes were as odd as I was as a kid. There is a song that I remembered playing on the smooth jazz radio station growing up. It’s been driving me nuts! I couldn’t remember what it was. Then I remembered. This is the first song that I remember. It is the oldest memory I have with clarity – listening to this song in my bedroom on the radio, feeling the breeze come in on my face in the summer.

Another thing I remember being into, music-wise – Smash Mouth. Whatever you are about to say, stow it. That shit is catchy! I still listen to that now. The aforementioned girly-mate and I would listen to them together. I remember when we’d be in her room, listening to Smash Mouth and hanging out. Fond memories. My music memories are tied in entirely with her. The brother I never had and I weren’t much for the musical selection. If you want to talk to me about gaming back in the day, that is where him and I shined the most. Anyway, Smash Mouth was both popular back in my time growing up, and I will admit to liking it.

Here is where I have to get a little bit bashful. I am going to send this post to the lady-friend, and I am going to see if this makes her feel a little ashamed to. There was another group that I was into, growing up. Listening to their stuff now, it is downright ear sodomy. But I was young! It was what was the jamming tunes to hear. Those of you who know this group, let’s see how many of you will be willing to own up to listening to them – Eiffel 65. A French electronica group. Their tune “Blue” was HUGE for a while. So was their tune “Move Your Body.” For all you kids today who wanted to know what club music was like back in the day, now you know. It was electronica madness like that. Look up those songs, and you’ll learn something about history. I still, to this day, have their one and only CD they ever released. I have ALL my old CDs. I’m retro as fuck like that.

Then there was the music that the Sister was into. Anyone who knows the 90’s knows what females in the 90’s were listening to. Anyone wanna put in a guess? Boy-bands. The mid to late-90’s boy-bands were among the signature things that marked an era. After Kurt Cobain and the style he brought forward died (the saddest fucking thing ever), that was the big thing that replaced it. If I could tell you all the amount of days that I spent having to have my sister’s insufferable fucking taste in music blasted from her room on her stereo, I would tell you of the most hellish time. It’s part of the reason that I spent so much time in the basement or outside. Got me away from her shitty-ass music.

Another musical memory I have was from a tape that a friend of the family made for my grandparents on their 50th anniversary. It was “Just the Way You Are,” by Billy Joel. I still have memories tied to that song. I have memories tied to a couple songs by Billy Joel. He’s one of my favorite musicians now. I happen to know that my mother reads my site, so this might bring back some sad memories. Part of me always wondered what happened to that tape. Copies were given to the family. With my grandmother having passed last year, it seems like a nice way to keep their memories going. If I could find that old VHS, there are ways to turn those into DVDs. Or digital files, but I like having a hard copy of stuff. Remember what I was saying about having my old CDs? That song takes me back to my grandparents on the mum’s side. I was never as tight with them as I was with Grandma. Part of it was proximity. The other part was that my grandma Betty and I just bumped-heads in the worst way. She was a nice gal, but I admit that we didn’t always get along. Grandpa White was a good guy. My memories of going to Seward with them in the summer are among the fondest memories I have of growing up.

The last musical memories I have are listening to Christmas music during the holiday season. Remember what I said about oldies being what my parents listened to? Same deal. I LOVE the old stuff in that regard. Maybe should have made this post during the holiday season, but whatever. I’m here now, and I am writing this. I am certain that the old cassette tapes that I listened to to DEATH are gone. No joke, the old cassettes of Christmas music from the members of the Rat Pack and Johnny Mathis and their ilk were ones that I listened to almost as much as I watched my old VHS tape of Fantasia. It was insane. The memories I have of decorating the tree, watching the snow fall, and just being a kid during that time of year. Makes me wish I could go back. Living the adult life is doing me no favors. Living past my head injury hasn’t done me any favors. In the back of my mind, part of me has always wished that I hadn’t. That that had been the end of it for me. The endless medical problems. The depression caused by brain damage. It has been an unending hell, that everyone keeps telling me will get better. But it doesn’t. I just keep being here, suffering through it.

So yeah, that is the music I grew up with. Here’s where I want all of you to get involved. Tell me some of your musical stories in the Comments. For real, I want to know. What was the music that you grew up with, and has that music stayed with you? Let’s all regale our history of days of old.

Until next time, a quote,

“When I was a kid, growing up, music was the escape. That’s the only thing that had no judgements. You know? You could put on a record and it’s not gonna yell at you for dressing the way you do. It’s gonna make you feel better about it.” -Marilyn Manson, Bowling For Columbine

I see her there, in that house. The summer has just begun. There is three months of freedom ahead of me! What bliss! Nothing but time and happiness. What more could a kid want? I get to the house, and she’s sitting in the chair, reading a book. Short shorts and a tee shirt. Seeing her makes me so happy. The summer makes me happy too. I could sit out in that wind for a lifetime. Indeed, that’s the best thing about summer – the wind. The wind ties it all together. Makes it real. The heat isn’t our favorite thing, but that wind makes everything worthwhile.

Greeting her, I go inside. She says hi and smiled at me. That smile, it’s so nice. For the longest time, I have felt like there is something that I should say to her. But the words escape me. Am I too young? Maybe. Or maybe it’s just something beyond my grasp. Still, every time I see her, my heart lights up. What is this feeling? Beating so fast. Where does this emotion come from? What does all this mean? I shake my head, putting it out of my mind. We have a whole summer ahead of us! I’m not gonna waste a moment of it.

Do adults have these lazy afternoons? Are they able to enjoy this time, like I do? I don’t think so. I don’t think so. They’re always going to work, and then coming home tired and seemingly unhappy. I am not looking forward to becoming an adult. What do they have going on in their lives? Doesn’t seem like much. No video games, no books, no nothing. Just gardening, garage stuff and whatnot. Geez, is that fun?

So many great plans. Swimming in my uncle’s pool. Hanging and talking on the trampoline. Going out to our secret fort and spending time. This is the life! Though part of me always wondered what it’s like to be some small town kid. I live out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but poor people, out here. Everywhere you look, poor people, in the shabbiest houses. It’s pretty bad. Is that also what adulthood is like? I can’t even imagine.

My best friend will be around too. Him and I don’t get to see enough of each other. We can hang out in our secret room in the basement, where we can make our perfect utopia and muse about whatever is on our minds. He is the brother I never had. The sibling I always wanted. She’ll hang with us too. That’s good. The three of us are inseparable. I hope that I never have to leave where they are. The three of us can do stuff forever. We can see movies and play games and hang out. That’s all I really want. Sure, I want to write and stuff, but that’s just work. All I really needs is him and her.

If I had more guts, I’d talk to her. Maybe try and tell her about these weird feelings I have inside me. It seems so good. Like, every time we’re in a room together, the world looks so much better. Then there are the later times. We will hang out late in the day, sitting in her room and listening to Pure Moods. She has this trippy glitter lamp that makes the walls all shiny and purple. I hope to get one of those myself, someday. Makes me wish I could describe this feeling better. Like, my heart pounds. We were at the lake, the other day. Just talking and swimming and stuff. We were next to each other, and all I wanted to do was be closer. She was close to me, and that was enough. What is that? Love? That seems like the right word. But, it’s weird, right? We’ve known each other forever. And…never mind. I just, if this is what I think it is, I don’t know what I’ll do. Tell her? I wish I could. I really do.

Summer is my favorite time of year. It gets me to writing this stuff. You should see my drawer with writing in it. It’s freaking crazy! Got so much stuff! I’m writing this in my “journal.” Yeah, doesn’t even deserve the name. I almost never write in this. Christmas is cool and all, but summer is freedom. Maybe, someday, if things change between her and I, I’ll be able to tell her. Until then, I guess that’s what it is. I think it is love. I love her. So weird, saying that out loud. I love her. The more I say it, the more it’s real. Guess I couldn’t stay a little kid forever.

That’s my mission – find a point, before the end of the summer, that I can tell her. That’s what I’m going to do! Wish me luck.

(The tragic part is – I never did. When I finally was able to tell her, the story was been and gone. That is something I’ll always regret. It breaks my heart, every time)

Until next time, a quote,

“Well, I doubt we can be together forever. But isn’t that what growing up’s all about? What’s important isn’t how often we see each other, but how often we think about each other. Right?” – Hayner, Kingdom Hearts II.5 ReMIX

There comes a point where I have to wonder if even Christians aren’t a little ashamed by how ridiculous their beliefs are. I mean, there is this video that is making the rounds where you see this kid coming home. He is playing with a new toy and is really having a good time. It is a magical wizard knight or something. Anyway, the mom sees him playing and asks what that toy is and where he got it from. The kid explains that it was given to him by a friend (or maybe borrowed, but you never find out for certain) and that all of his friends are really stoked about this toy. There is also a movie about this wizard knight character coming out in the near-future as well, which the boy wants to see. So, the mother goes into this passive-aggressive talk with the kid asking him who likes magic? Well Satan, of course. And since Satan likes magic, his wanting to see a movie about a magic knight and play with that toy is sinning. The kid throws the toy in the trash and the mother says that she is proud of him, but more-importantly, Jehovah is proud of him too.

This little bit of shitty-shit video was put out by Jehovah’s Witnesses, obviously. And it brings new light to something that I have always thought – this Jehovah character is just too ridiculously judgmental to be real.

Let me put this into perspective for you. We live on one arm of a galaxy. We are one star of billions of stars in this galaxy. We are one planet orbiting that one star of a arm on the far-edge of this galaxy. Now, our galaxy is one galaxy of billions of other galaxies. Each of those galaxies have billions of stars, with most of them probably having planets. Of those, it is a good bet that probably 1 in 3 system have planets with life. Of those, it is a good bet that 1 in 5 of those have planets with sentient life. So, what we are looking at is a number we can’t comprehend of worlds with life that can think and read and make ships that go into space.

With that in mind, I have to ask – how can you possibly believe that this God character would give a shit what toy a kid plays with? It is hard for people to understand just how vast this cosmos is, or how long it has been here. We have proven, beyond any doubt, that the universe is over 4 billion years old. Through all that time, do you honestly believe that a being capable of creating this universe would care what the lifeforms on one tiny, insignificant planet in the vast space of their cosmos does? How can you buy that? How does that not strike you as totally nuts?!

I am sure that I am going to get one bible-thumping retard in my comments section who will say that they have faith. Ah, faith, the device the people use to get rid of their critical thinking skills. A device where you can live in ignorance all you want and it’s okay.

The god-character that they describe sounds like a butt-hurt child who gets mad and throws tantrums and doesn’t like people because they don’t like what he likes. Wow, he sounds like a teenage girl. I don’t believe in ANY of that religious horseshit, but even I have to pause at the idea that they believe that the being who created this unbelievably vast cosmos, who made this universe that we are a part of and is so beautiful, with the endless number of things that we don’t know, and is a character who is so immature that he will send a small child to eternal torment because they played with the wrong toy. How the fuck can you possibly say that with a straight face? As annoying as I find it, it is funny to me just thinking about it.

Can Christians just admit that this isn’t real? All the evidence about this character’s behavior suggests that this is nothing but a complete farce that they believe in because it makes them feel good. There isn’t ONE scrap of evidence of this creature’s existence, and if there is a creator to it all, it is NOTHING like the character they portray.

Oh, and that cartoon is hilarious. Look it up, if you ever are of a mind to.

I remember as a kid, growing up where I did. I won’t say where, because I don’t want to embarrass anybody, or make anybody pissed, because as I have recently figured out, I don’t often know who is reading this blog. There could be somebody from my hometown who is keeping tabs on me.

Anyway, I remember that there was a pastor at my parent’s church (it was never my church. I never wanted to be there, and I was bored by what I figured out at a young age was a lot of ridiculous non-sense. I was bored to death, but I didn’t hate it there. The main pastor was a nice guy. He always seemed to have a neat story about his travels. Granted, that was what made his sermons boring, but still, he was a nice guy. Then, for a lot of my time there growing up, there was this guy who was his underling pastor (I have no idea what the correct terminology is here, so if anyone from the aforementioned hometown wants to correct me, I would be more than happy to hear it). Let’s call him…Andy.

Pastor Andy was…not the other guy. See, his schtick was that he was trying to be engaging to the young people. He played a guitar, and had long hair, and a beard! Because that’s really cool. Thankfully, he didn’t do anything really stupid, like try and talk hip or talk down to us in what was popular at the time. No, he had a much more basic way to try and be fun to the youth. And…it failed, miserably. From day one, Andy and I didn’t get along. Something about this dude rubbed me the wrong way, and the feeling was mutual. He didn’t like me anymore than I liked him, and while we weren’t open about this animosity, we made no effort to hide it. Our time together was mostly spent with sarcastic quips and slight little insults. It was not fun. The culmination of him and I not liking each other was when we had a youth event that I was forced to go on (to this day, I don’t hold it against my parents that they wanted me involved with the other kids at the church. I get why they wanted it. I just didn’t fit in). The two of us, by chance, ended up alone in a room together, and that was when the insults between us got a lot more open. It was at that point that I made a point to avoid Andy, because he pissed me off. When he left the church, I didn’t miss him. Of course, it wasn’t long after that I left the church, but for entirely different reasons (I was done with Christianity and how stupid it is)

So, to the point of this post, Christians, it is time for you to accept that all your attempts to be cool and connect with the youth fail. Badly. And here is one of those few areas that I actually have nothing negative to say about Christians. Now, I’m not talking about those Fundies or the Evangelicals who try and brainwash little kids. No, that is pure evil. I’m talking about the Christian groups who try and appeal to teenagers, and young adults. The pastors and groups who try all sorts of gimmicks to make the youth like them more.

Let’s start by looking at Christian rock. Wow, the name alone sounds like some oxymoron that shouldn’t have been uttered by anybody. This is one of the most unintentional sources of hilarity for me. For one thing, it isn’t rock. Let’s just accept that now. At best, and I do mean best, it is pop music. Until I hear a Christian group bust out like Rolling Stones, they cannot begin to call themselves “rock.” (and please don’t send me some link to a cover they made of a Rolling Stones song with their BS lyrics. That doesn’t count!) The lyrics are awful, the message is bullshit, it is just a great time. If you want to hear a much better dissection of how bad Christian “rock” is, here’s a great video that I recommend you check out. Not one of the artists featured in that video could stand tall to any of the rock legends, like the Stones, or Pink Floyd, or Metallica. Not one. They are pop songs, and that is at best.

You know what’s funny to me? I actually have more affinity for some of the hymns I had to listen to back in church (I never sang. It wasn’t worth it) than I do for that bullshit. Some of them were kind of fun. Some were bouncy and had catch tunes, and the harmonies were fun. It was actually enjoyable. The lyrics were dumb, but at least it had a nice tune. That counts for something with me. But apparently, to the rest of the youth, it does not. Actually, no, it still does. The youth hate Christian “rock” as much as I do. I have a great quote from a very underrated show, King of the Hill about this, as spoken by Hank Hill –

Can’t you see you’re not making Christianity any better, you’re just making rock ‘n roll worse.

Well said, Hank.

Then there are the preachers who actually do decide to go down the road of trying to talk street. I cannot tell you how much I have busted out laughing when I was with a youth group and there was this preacher who tried a Christian rap. I couldn’t stop myself. I probably pissed the guy off, and look like a jerk, but it was so bad! This was some of the worst musical interpretation I have ever heard. To all preachers out there who are trying to connect to the youth, I have one big suggestion – don’t talk down to kids. For real, if you are going to insult their intelligence, just go balls-to-the-wall with the concept and treat them like they are idiots. Because every preacher I have seen in videos on YouTube who comes out wearing “bling” and talking like they are from the ghetto makes me feel sorry for your whole religion. These idiots are killing it faster than me and my non-belief that is supported by evidence!

Christians, you’re not cool. Your religion isn’t cool. It actually kind of sucks. It’s boring, tied to an enormous guilt complex, makes you hate who you are, and who other people are, and above all that, it makes life less fun. I never believed any of that bullshit that I heard when I was a kid. I have always been pretty sharp, and I always had this nagging doubt in the back of my mind that didn’t give a crap what the preacher said.

I don’t hate this guy we called Andy. He was a bit of a dick, but he wasn’t a bad person. He just wasn’t the kind that I would get along with, and had kind of a grumpy side (to me. He could hide it much better from the others. I brought out the worst in him. I have a gift at that). I grew up in a nice Lutheran church, with nice people. I left because I just didn’t buy any of their holy book’s BS anymore. It’s as simple as that.

And for all you pastors who are a bunch of fundie bigoted dickwads who are trying to teach your hate to the youth, I have another video for you to watch, here is the link, and I would be glad if after watching it, you shut the fuck up.

Until next time, a quote,

“There are two types of people in this world – those who do what they’re told, and those who are true to themselves. Most people think you’re supposed to follow a predetermined path, keep your head down, obey the rules, do whatever’s popular. But, some prefer to find their own path in life.” -Yuji Sakurai, BECK: Mongolian Chop Squad

It never ceases to amaze me how America has a way of infecting the world with our worst parts. When we created the fast-food joint, it spread to the rest of the world. Wal-Mart is looking to take over the world sooner or later. Our crappy movies are being sold overseas to audiences who must look at us like we are the stupidest people on the face of the Earth. But when I see stuff like this heading over to England, I feel a little part of me die inside. I am, of course, talking about the absolutely horrid show, Toddlers and Tiaras.

For those of you who aren’t informed (because you aren’t cool like the rest of us), this show is where girls, little girls of around 6 to 8 are in beauty pageants. Their parents dress them up in outfits that show as much skin as possible, parade them in front of people, and have these girls thinking that being beautiful is all that matters, and winning beauty pageants is the only thing that is important. These girls think that their external beauty is all that matters.

There are levels of how awful this show is. And, since you are here and I have your attention, we are going to go into this now. The first aspect we are going to examine is absolute reality that these little girls are being exploited by their parents. It can’t be denied that these people are doing just that. These mothers are not giving their little girls any choice, sticking them in outfits that are beyond disgusting, even for our lack of culture, and making them go on stage. This goes beyond living vicariously through one’s kids. Most every parent does that. But what these people are doing, it is so far beyond that it is sick. It is exploiting them, and taking their childhood away from them.

I have a friend who told me a story about such parenting. She wasn’t a beauty pageant girl. No, she was a girl who was pressured to do everything her mother wanted. Her mom wanted her to be a skating queen, so she was. She worked herself to death so that she could impress her mother, but no matter how hard she worked, it was never enough. She was in dance because her mother wanted it. She did every single thing that her mother demanded of her. And when she couldn’t anymore. When an injury took away her ability to skate in a professional capacity, there wasn’t sympathy or kindness as a reward. There was anger and disappointment. This woman has mistreated her her entire life. I am amazed every single day how well she has turned out. The determination that she has gotten as a result of her mother treating her like that.

But what about these girls? Sadly, I fear that they won’t get that same level of respect. These mothers demand perfection from them. Stylized perfection. And when they can’t deliver that on their own merits, what do these mothers do? They drug them. For real, they do. Take a look at the link I have at the top. You see the mother there, talking about how all of the mothers of these girls are giving them “special juice.” You see with her, they are feeding her Mountain Dew. All that caffeine, to a six year old girl. It’s disgusting. Unbelievably disgusting.

I can’t say how revolted I am by parents who think that this kind of shit is okay. These parents are literally telling these girls to show skin! Telling a six year old girl to show skin! What the fuck is wrong with these people?! There are no words for how horrible these parents are and how much I find them to be morally repugnant and loathesome.

But let’s go to another part of what is wrong with this. The childhood of these girls is being stripped away by the people who support this. These girls should be out in the world, doing what kids do. Instead, they are being drilled, instructed, shuttled to the next pageant, and have to live this way. Children should be free, to learn about the world, to grow as people, not be doped up on some pathetic beauty show which openly pounds it into the head that this is socially acceptable.

Which brings us to the next part – what the fuck is wrong with TLC showing this crap? They are openly acknowledging that this stereotype that girls should be plastic barbie dolls is okay. And it has an audience! It wouldn’t be there, now for five seasons, unless people actually buy into the premise that this shit is okay! Not only are the parents reinforcing this stereotype, but all of the people who watch this are.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised. We are such an incredibly shallow country. This is the country who thinks that Michael Bay is worth paying over $100,000,000 in total sales for the tickets to his piece of shit movies. Transformers 2 garnered over $400,000,000. But I keep hoping that somewhere, in the small recesses of human consciousness, we are becoming a better people. But we aren’t! In fact, we are getting worse! This absolutely toxic stereotype for young girls, and especially teenage girls, isn’t dwindling. It’s growing. Despite all the ads saying that girls are beautiful. Despite people like Baz Luhrman saying that they shouldn’t read beauty magazines, because they make you feel ugly. Despite their teachers and counselors who are hopefully carrying such messages. Despite all of that, the fact is that they go home and are told by their parents and their media that this is how it should be, that their bodies are the only thing going for them. Oh wait, that’s another thing Michael Bay supports.

The fact is that the parents who indulge this, the media that puts it out there, and the public at large who doesn’t absolutely abhore the actions taken by these people are all to blame for the absolutely horrific nature of what the girls in this country are almost forced to become. When your media tells you, day in and day out that being beautiful is all that matters, what the fuck do you think is going to happen?

This goes to my criticism of our media entirely for propogating this worldview. It’s corrosive and it’s wrong! People like the Disney Channel, that has saturant crap after saturant crap like Hannah Montana or whatever new thing has replaced it, teaching girls that beauty is great, thinking is bad. Or people like TLC, telling girls that they have to be beautiful, get married, and have lots of kids. It is all bullshit, and it fucking pisses me off!

Fuck these people! Girls, for the love of everything that is good, if your parent is like this, fuck them. If your media promotes it, fuck that. Be who you want to be, whatever the cost. The cost of not doing so is the violation of your youth and the rape of your mind.

Until next time, a quote,

“And the worst part of it is the mother, who is influencing this mentality and this lifestyle of the girl. And if there is any person who has greater influence, it is the parent who has greatest influence over the children.” -Mr. Repzion, Bad Parenting – Toddlers and Tiaras